


Overheard

by TheVulpineHero1



Series: Anniversary+ [2]
Category: One Hundred Percent Orange Juice, SUGURI (Video Games)
Genre: Continuation, F/F, Fluff, Kink Discovery, NSFW, POV First Person, Vaginal Fingering, loving relationship, mild exhibitionism, whole lotta grump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 12:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20760005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVulpineHero1/pseuds/TheVulpineHero1
Summary: In which Nath only mostly regrets answering the phone. (Continuation of Anniversary)





	Overheard

**Author's Note:**

> This was another art trade. It's set after the events of my previous Sora/Nath nsfw, Anniversary, but uses elements of the survival!verse AU found in Tales of A Warless World as well.

I set down my hammer, and briefly admire the scuffs on my knuckles, the places where I have scraped my new hands against rough wood. The skin – some polymer that is far advanced beyond my ability to describe it – is holding up well. They said it was self-healing, to an extent, and the little damage I’ve caused should mend over within a day or two. Like real skin. Real hands. More importantly, they  _ feel _ like real hands as well, padded enough underneath that you can’t feel the metal even when you squeeze. I’ve wanted that. I didn’t know I wanted it, but I have.

Little by little and piece by piece, the house is taking shape around us. Last year, I made my summer house liveable; this year, Sora and I have decided to make it a home. I have armed her with a feather duster – a decision that may not necessarily be a wise one – and set myself the task of making furniture. The bare corners of the rooms, the bald spots in the halls, the barren counters in the kitchen – we’re going to fill them all with memories, and with life. That’s the plan.

Whether the plan will be executed this century is another question. Work is slow; Sora has decided she is fond of spiders, and every time she finds one she picks it up and carries it – gravely, like a footman bearing a crown on a velvet cushion – outside, to freedom. As for me, I’ve been finding myself flummoxed by anything more complicated than a bookshelf, and twice a day I have to make a phone call concerning our sofa delivery. Sora insisted on a sofa, and even picked out a handsome one in midnight blue; unfortunately, it’s currently somewhere on the other side of the equator, and I can’t seem to locate it for love nor money.

On top of that, the weather has been beautiful – tropical warmth, clear skies, sunlight that brushes gold onto the pale sands of the beach. In the morning, it’s perfect for sunbathing; by noon, there are few greater pleasures than retreating to the coolness of the bedroom for hour of two of napping. It feels like it’s about that time now, actually. My eyelids are beginning to droop already.

I feel, rather than see, Sora’s approach. She moves around the house as quietly as a cat, as softly as a spirit, and she seems to be making a sport out of catching me unaware. Sometimes, she is successful. Other times– like now – I feel her coming in the pit of my heart, the little flutter of agreeable nervousness.

“Boo,” she says, and wraps her arms around me from behind. Her hands fall comfortably on my waist, and she nuzzles against the nape of my neck. I can feel her breath against my skin. “Did I get you?”

I squeeze her hand gently. “Not this time.”

“Muu.”

Sora: hero of the Great War, defender of the skies, undisputed love of my life. And, as I’ve discovered since we started dating, an unabashed cuddlebug. Perhaps it’s because she lives with Suguri, who will hug anything that doesn’t shoot at her first (and, the rumour goes, a few things that do). Or maybe it’s just the hangover from a military upbringing, where physical affection is in notoriously short supply. Whatever the reason, she loves to touch, to kiss, to hold.

To be held by Sora is… a deep, deep joy. I can’t really describe it. Of course, she is warm. Of course, she is soft. But it’s more than that. She has a way of opening herself to the world, of appreciating things without shame or guilt. It’s in the way she loves to nap in the sunshine, to feel Roger’s fur under her fingers, to luxuriate in a clear blue sky. That’s what I feel when she hugs me. She is opening herself to me, drinking me in. Nothing has ever made me feel quite so wanted. So loved.

“How did you do with the spare room?” I ask her.

“I took all the spiders out. It should be okay for when Sham comes tomorrow.”

I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb. Part of me is a little irritated that Sham decided to visit. Not that I dislike her, of course. We got off to a rocky start, but in the end, there’s a lot more to like about her than I thought there would be. A lot more depth hidden under the surface. I haven’t broached the subject of how she feels about me and Sora dating, but it seems like she’s accepted it, and I’m grateful to her for that.

But… I’ve been enjoying being alone with Sora like this. Waking up together, sharing the same space, eating the same meals. Living together. It’s different from being at my apartment, or at Suguri’s house. More complete. Even though Sham will only be here a few days, I don’t want to give this up.

“What are you thinking about?” Sora asks. She’s pressing kisses to the nape of my neck, just above the collar of my tank top.

“I was just wondering if this is what being married is like. I might not mind being married, if that’s the case.”

Sora thinks about this for a moment in-between kisses. “That’s a good flirt,” she pronounces eventually. “You’re improving.”

“I aim to please.”

I turn my head to kiss her properly; the rest of the world floats away and becomes much less important for a few minutes. Neither Sora or I could be called great kissers when we first started, but it’s a problem we’re resolving with plenty of practice. My senses fill up with the woman I love, and for a little while, I am immeasurably happy.

I’m not  _ quite _ happy enough that I miss Sora’s hands drifting away from my waist and slipping underneath my tank top. Her fingertips trail tantalisingly up across my stomach, before she finally cups my breasts.

“Mmpf,” I say, and then, because there is a token level of grumpiness I have to maintain, “You’re insatiable, you know.”

“Mm,” Sora agrees happily, letting her fingers sink into my soft flesh. “I can’t get enough Nath.”

“Not enough  _ boobs _ , you mean.”

“I like all of you.” She leans forward more, and I feel the heat of her pressing against my back. “But you’re really sensitive here.”

She teases my nipple for emphasis, gently rolling it between thumb and forefinger, and whatever my reply was going to be floats out of my brain. She’s right. I love to have my breasts played with, my shoulder blades kissed, my back rubbed. I love when she runs her hands across my stomach, or strokes the insides of my thighs. I wouldn’t know any of these things about myself if Sora weren’t quite so dedicated to finding them out – if her love for hugs and kisses didn’t transition so readily into more physical affections. I’m joking when I say she’s insatiable, but it  _ is _ true that she enjoys sex in the same open-hearted, unashamed way she enjoys everything else. Maybe more so, since it gives her an opportunity to get hot and sweaty for a little while.

I  _ thought _ , when we first started, that I would get used to it. And, in a sense, I have – but in the wrong direction. I imagined that my body would slowly get used to the stimulation and it would feel less intense; in reality, it feels like the more often she touches me, the more quickly my body responds, and the more easily I get aroused – and the fact that she keeps finding my weak spots only makes it harder to say no. Not that I particularly want to, especially with Sham arriving tomorrow and our windows of opportunity for this kind of thing becoming a lot more limited.

“Why don’t you take this off?” Sora whispers, tugging at my top. “You go topless all the time at home.”

“Because if I do,” I say, “we won’t get anything done for the rest of the day, and we still have a bit to finish before the house is ready for guests.”

“We’ll get plenty done.”

“Not the things  _ I’m _ thinking about doing.”

“What things,” she asks, her voice low, “are those?”

“Finish building the dining table,” I reply, although nothing could be further from the truth at this moment in time, and I’m pretty sure we both know it.

“We can do that tomorrow.”

She’s right; we have all of tomorrow morning to play with, and we won’t need the table until afternoon. But the words she leaves unsaid, that she doesn’t want to say and I don’t want to hear, are: ‘ _ But we can’t do this.’ _ It’s so… silly. I’ve been alive for ten thousands years; a week is the blink of an eye, and Sham will be gone before we know it. There will be a hundred thousand opportunities to make love with Sora in our future. I know that. She knows that. But even so –

Even so, I can’t help but resent every single one of them that gets taken away. I treasure this. I treasure seeing her face light up, her eyes trace the lines of my body. I treasure hearing the sounds she makes when she’s feeling good, the little moans and nudges to go fast or go slow. I treasure that feeling of closeness, of feeling desired, the tenderness in the lead up, the act and the afterglow. If I can’t have tomorrow, I want to make the most of  _ now _ .

“You,” I tell her, my voice husky, “are  _ insatiable. _ ”

“So are you.”

Right now, I’m not arguing.

I kiss her again, more intensely than before, starting fiercely before mellowing into something soft and longing. I feel her hands moving across my body and then, like a magic trick, she peels away my tank top; she’s getting better at undressing me than I am. For a moment I enjoy the feeling of cool air hitting sensitive skin, before Sora cups my breasts again and begins to tease them properly, the way she knows I like it, gently stroking the soft skin on the underside, squeezing the tips. I feel her bump her hips against mine.

“You said ‘unf’,” she whispers happily to me, with that half-smile that usually means mischief. ‘Unf,’ according to Sora, is my sex noise. I don’t recall making it in the last five seconds, but I really wouldn’t be surprised. “Nath, can you do it today?”

I pause. She’s asking if I’ll use my fingers. Usually, I only use my mouth. Part of it is not wanting to hurt her with my clumsy motions; another part is that I’m good with my tongue and genuinely enjoy giving oral sex, because it stimulates almost all of the senses. But another part is that I always worried that… well. That because of my old prosthetics, it would feel like being touched by a machine.

But it’s something Sora wants. She trusts me, and she’s seen the amount of pleasure I can get out of  _ her _ fingers. She wants to try it. In my heart of hearts, I want to try it too; I want to see her expressions as she opens herself to me, which I never get to do with my head between her legs. (Not that the view down there is anything to complain about).

“I’m feeling brave,” I tell her. I see her eyes light up, the corners of her mouth twitch. Little bursts of happiness.

I kiss her again, and start to think about the matter of clothes. She’s wearing a sky blue camisole and some denim shorts, although she won’t be for much longer. I settle my hand on her hips, loop my thumbs beneath the waistband of her shorts, and kneel – gradually sliding them down her legs as I do. Underneath, she’s wearing a pair of black, lacy panties I didn’t know she had, low-cut and translucent at the front, with a little ribbon at the waistband. I stand back up as she steps out of her shorts, gently drawing my fingers across the soft skin on the inside of her thigh –

The phone rings.

I shoot an irritated glance at the kitchen counter; the bold white letters on the phone spell out SHAM. For a moment, I waver.

“Ignore it.”

She takes my hand and presses it gently, but insistently, to her crotch, and I feel wetness spreading through the thin fabric. All thought of answering the phone drifts pleasantly from my mind. The woman I love wants me. Needs me. The wetness at my fingertips is proof of that. I love that I can feel this, that these prosthetics exist to make the sensation open to me. The phone falls silent without me realising it. Sora’s eyes are heavy-lidded, her cheeks flushed.

I close my eyes, and seek her opening with my fingertips – tracing the designs on the lace, so sheer than I can feel the heat of her skin. I tease her a little, moving my fingers in idle circles; she holds her breath, although there are still little noises she makes when I touch particularly sensitive spots. When her noises become more impatient than enraptured, I find her entrance and press upwards, the thin and taut fabric of her lingerie the only thing between my fingers and her. I don’t feel the shiver go down her spine, but I feel it when it hits her hips.

She gently puts a hand on my wrist to stop me. Her cheeks are flushed. “Nn… I need to take these off. I’ll ruin them otherwise.”

To be honest, I think I might enjoy that. Maybe it’s because I don’t wear them unless I have to, but I don’t really see panties in the functional way that other people seem to; for me, there is always an element of sexuality to them, of hiding something away so it’s more fun to reveal later. Maybe it’s a kink. But whatever the reason, the idea of sliding my hand under her waistband and making her cum wearing them is very appealing. Maybe another day, when she’s wearing a less expensive pair, and when I’ve had a little practice.

I smile, and kneel down again to take off her panties the fun way. I lay kisses on her legs and her belly, before gently taking the ribbon decoration between my teeth and pulling gently downwards–

The phone rings. Again.

“Nnnnn,” Sora grumbles as I sigh and stand up. “Who keeps calling?”

“It’s Sham,” I say as calmly as I can, although I’m just as annoyed as Sora is. “…We’d better answer, I suppose.”

“But we’re  _ busy! _ ” she protests.

“But it’s Sham,” I reply, and her face softens a little. “She might need help finding the place, since she’s only been once before. And anyway, she’s the type to keep calling until we pick up. I don’t want to get interrupted again.”

“Nnn… But Sham’s like Hime, too. She talks for a long time when she’s on the phone.”

“Ah.”

She has a point. Sham’s a chatty kind of person, and if I take too long, our window of opportunity will pass and Sora will be grumpy and unsatisfied for the rest of the day – not to mention how frustrated I’ll be. It’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, only the rock keeps giving you missed calls and the hard place will spend the evening eating ice cream straight from the tub and talking to you in grunts.

But the phone is still ringing, and I can’t, in good conscience, ignore it. At least not without earplugs. “Hah… I’m going to answer it. But it’s only so I can give you my full attention later, okay?”

She doesn’t look happy about it at all, but it’s the closest thing to a resolution I can come to. Besides… I don’t think I could really carry on too well with what we were doing. My heart is beating slower, and the irritation has made it hard to focus on my body all that much. The tension makes it so much harder to be, well, sexy, even when there’s a half-naked Sora staring you in the face.

The phone stops ringing before I reach it, which means I have to try and navigate the touch screen. I hate touch screens. It’s fine when they’re letting you do things by swiping, with big easy motions, but as soon as you need to be accurate they are beyond me. Even Sora usually takes her time with them. As I’m fiddling around with it, Sora loops her arms under mine again.

“…Sorry. I was being grumpy with you, but it’s not your fault,” she says. The tension in the air dissipates. My irritation quiets; I am comfortable. It’s amazing what a hug can do.

“It’s fine… It annoyed me too.”

She makes a little satisfied sound; it’s the same one she makes when we lie in bed together in the mornings and she strokes my cheek. “I was thinking, though.”

“Thanks for the warning. What about?” I tease. The answer, given what we were just doing, and where her hands are drifting, is probably boobs. Boobs is a very safe thing for her to be thinking about; nothing gets shot, no zany schemes are enacted, and my chest is not rendered explosive by contemplation. That said, Sora is good at surprises, especially when it comes to trains of thought.

“Only one of us… needs to answer the phone. So you can answer it, and I can carry on.”

So it actually  _ was _ boobs? For a second, I fooled myself into believing it would be something more magical. Part of me is almost disappointed, but another, much larger part, is basking in the attention, the desire–

“Wait, wait,  _ wait _ ,” I say, because my own train of thought was running away from the issue at hand. “You’re not  _ seriously _ planning on doing it while I’m on the phone, right?”

“Why not? This way we can have fun  _ and _ you get to answer the phone.” She kisses my neck, and gives my breast a gentle squeeze. My body begins to feel warm and pliable again, but to be honest, this seems a little outrageous for me to just–

The phone rings, and I answer it without thinking. Sora begins to roll my nipple between her thumb and forefinger again, and I realise I have just lost my chance to escape.

“ _ Hi, hi! It’s Sham,”  _ comes a chirpy voice from the phone.  _ “Sorry I called so many times. I figured you were doing something and couldn’t pick up… I hope I’m not interrupting anything!” _

“Ah, no…” I say woodenly. It’s the best I can do. Every single coherent thought has poured out of my mind. “I mean, I  _ was _ doing something, but I don’t think you’re interrupting, necessarily…”

Sora makes an appreciative sound from behind me; apparently, she liked that one. She takes her hands away from my chest, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Unlike Hime, Sora knows when a joke has gone on long enough.

“ _ Oh, great! So, um… Is Sora there?” _

“She’s… around,” I reply cautiously. Did I just hear rustling behind me? “Do you want me to get her for you?”

“ _ Oh, no! Actually, I was kinda hoping I could get you by yourself, so this is perfect. Let’s have some girl talk, okay?” _

I raise an eyebrow. It’s not that it’s particularly  _ rare _ for Sham to ask for me instead of Sora – she seems to have ample attention for both of us – but I can’t see why she’d want girl talk with me of all people. I don’t  _ do _ girl talk. Sometimes I barely do  _ talk  _ talk. It seems suspicious, although I can’t put my finger on why.

And before I can figure it out or make a response, I’m distracted by a blue camisole flying gracefully from behind my shoulder and over the kitchen counter, followed shortly by a bra and a very wet pair of panties. My heart sinks; other bits of my body do exactly the opposite.

“Nath, let’s do a new rule,” Sora whispers, leaning in so her mouth is almost touching my ear. I can feel her stiff nipples brushing up against my skin, the sensation of her breasts squashing up against my back. “If you cum while you’re on the phone, you have to do whatever I say for a whole day.”

As usual, Sora raises more questions than she answers. What would I get if I ‘won’? And I don’t I usually do more or less whatever she says anyway? But what I do know is that, if Sora was  _ ever _ joking about her plan to pleasure me while I’m on the phone, she definitely isn’t now. She begins to tease my breasts again, gently cupping them and stroking the soft skin on the underside, just the way I like it. I feel myself tighten, which is a bad sign for my chances of winning this little game.

“ _ Nath, you alright? You went quiet. Is the reception bad?” _

“Uh, no, it’s – ahem. Like I said, I’m a tiny bit busy, so if it’s not important, maybe we could do ‘girl talk’ another time?” I’m not feeling particularly fussy about what time. Really, any time would be ideal, apart from this exact second (and possibly the hour or two after it).

“ _ Well, um, no. It’s the important kind of girl talk. I really… kinda need to get it out of the way. Before I come and visit you guys. I’ll try and be quick, okay?” _

Oh, god. The  _ important _ kind of girl talk. I bet she’s going to want me to make nuanced emotional responses too, and that is a difficult thing to do when half your brain and all of your body is occupied with concerns of a more carnal nature. She’s being reasonable about it and making concessions, too, which means I can’t even try to grump my way out of it.

I am not, as a rule, a woman given to panic. But sometimes, you encounter situations where panic is the only reasonable response.

“Ah… Go on, then.”

“ _ Well, um.” _

There is a long pause, uncharacteristic of Sham, as she arranges her thoughts. It is a pause Sora makes full use of. Her left hand begins to drift lower, running indulgently over my stomach. Balance needs good core strength, which I have in spades; I also have the abdominals to prove it, something that hasn’t gone unappreciated.

“ _ You… know I like Sora, right? In the, uh, not platonic kind of way?” _

Oh, no. We’re having  _ that _ conversation?  _ Now? _ I glance at Sora out of the corner of my eye; she’s resting her head on my shoulder, more than close enough for her to have heard what Sham just said. If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. To be fair, even  _ I _ knew that Sham had a thing for her, and – as she likes to remind me –  _ I  _ was the dense one before we were going out, and she was the one doing all the flirting and hard work. Besides, she and Sham have a wavelength with each other; there’s no way she wouldn’t know.

“I guessed, yes,” I say, for want of anything better. “I’m… well. Sorry.”

“ _ Oh, no, don’t be! I mean, I am a teensy bit jealous. Just a little bit! But I was thinking about it, and… uuuu, how do I put it… It’s like wrestling!” _

I am completely lost. From the way that Sora’s hands suddenly fall still, I think she’s taken aback by that particular bit of Sham wisdom as well.

“ _ See, when there’s a wrestling match, there has to be a winner and a loser, right? But at the end of the day, they both want the same thing – to put on an exciting performance for the crowd. That’s like us, you know? Only one of us can have Sora – ah, I mean, that is, unless, um, you were both into that kind of thing, and there was all sorts of consent and ground rules and stuff but – what I mean to say is – um – we both want Sora to be happy, and that’s the important thing!” _

It’s a roundabout, awkward way of saying it. But I suppose that means I’m not the only one who struggles with this kind of thing. There’s something comforting about that.

“…Right,” I say, and I feel myself smile, though it’s a little bittersweet. “I understand what you’re trying to say.”

“ _ I’m… I’m totally gonna support you two. Like, one hundred and ten percent! So, Nath. Let’s work together, and try to make everyone the happiest they can be.” _

“Sure.” My voice is quiet without meaning to be; I suppose I’m a little emotional at the moment. It must have… taken a lot, for Sham to be able to say all this. She’s tougher than I gave her credit for. “I’d like that, Sham.”

There is a comfortable silence. Sora leans in closer to me, her hair tickling my back, her hands at my waist. “You two,” she says, and pauses for a moment as if to decide, “are really dumb. I love you so much.”

“Thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes, but then, more gently: “We love you too.”

“ _ Ahh _ … _ Sorry. I just had to take a moment there! I was, um, super nervous about this whole thing,”  _ Sham babbles after another moment.  _ “I’m really relieved… So, anyway, you guys don’t have to show me any, like, special consideration when I’m there, just so you know. You can do whatever you’d normally do – kissing, holding hands, all that kind of thing. Just go for it!” _

“I… don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I reply.

“ _ It’s fine, it’s fine! What’s the worst that could happen – I get to see two hot girls making out? I’m super into that!” _

If making out was all we did, it wouldn’t be a problem, but I have a sneaking suspicion that  _ somebody _ would try and get away with a bit more than that. As if to confirm it, she hooks her thumbs under the waistband of my pants.

“You’re still going to do that?” I whisper. “After we… I don’t know. Had a moment?”

“Mm,” she nods. “Even more, now. I have the best friend,  _ and _ the best girlfriend. I’m so happy. I need to let you know how much I love you. Like this.”

She dips her hand under the fabric and slowly slides her fingers across my opening. My whole body shudders; something inside me tightens pleasantly. I think I’m clenching already. When did I get this wet? I don’t remember at all. I’ve been distracted from the sex by my conversation with Sham, and distracted from Sham by the sex. The brief moment when I was  _ kind of _ in control of the situation has elapsed, and now Sora has me wrapped around her little finger – although that’s not necessarily the finger I’m worried about-

“Nath,” she whispers. “Phone.”

“… _ said, you okay?”  _ Sham’s voice says as I lift the phone back to my ear – I must have put it down without realising when Sora started touching me.  _ “You just said ‘unf’ and then went quiet. Did something happen?” _

Oh no. She heard that? I rake my mind for a convincing lie, and try to ignore the fact that Sora is gently removing the last of my clothes. “Oh, I just… stubbed my toe against the kitchen counter. Sorry.” I feel Sora tap her finger on the inside of my thigh, and that is my cue to lift my feet so she can slide my pants from my ankles. After a second, they fly over the counter to join the rest of the clothes. The feeling of the air on my bare skin is comfortable, but the anticipation is killing me.

“ _ Wow… If I stub my toe, I’m hopping around and yelling and everything. You have to teach me the secret one day!” _

Sora’s hand presses at the small of my back, and my body obliges by leaning forwards until my breasts are resting on the cool surface of the countertop. She runs her hands down my thighs, appreciating the muscle, and as she does I spread my legs wider without thinking about. I can hear Sham talking, but I don’t know what she’s saying. Sora’s hands trail back upwards, tracing the curve of my ass, and then she slides her fingers between my legs and gently, so  _ gently _ , spreads my bare pussy with her fingers, completely exposed to the world, and I know that I’ve already lost Sora’s little game, that I can’t keep up with this level of teasing, that I’m going to cum and it’s not an if, but a when, and my stomach tightens just with the anticipation of it.

Sham is still babbling away, and as far as I can tell with my mind as clouded as it is, she sounds playful. _ “...but yeah, I was saying, don’t get cocky, okay? You just swore an oath as a member of the Sisterhood of Soratic Satisfaction, y’know! If you  _ ** _don’t_ ** _ make her happy, I’m legally obliged to track you down and crush your skull between my thighs!” _

Crush my – is that a threat, or a proposition? I really can’t tell. Either way, I  _ really _ wish she hadn’t made it just as my girlfriend is bending me over to fuck me, because I’m probably going to have weird thoughts about it later, I can tell –

I gasp, very audibly, as Sora starts to tease my clit. I’m so sensitive already that my hips instinctively buck upwards, but I can only rise so far, and her hand comes up to meet me; there’s no escape, and all I can do is stand on my tiptoes, quivering at her touch. I am  _ soaked _ , positively dripping, and I can  _ hear _ Sora’s fingers as she rubs me, and if I can hear it then there’s a chance that Sham can hear it as well, and I don’t even know how I feel about that anymore because everything,  _ everything _ is getting subliminated into the feeling of excitement, of arousal and imminent release –

“ _ Anyway, you can totally consider me your wingwoman from this point on. I’ll help you out however I can – dates, gifts, I’ve got all the romantic tips. I’m like a guru, you know? And I also know a lot about – well. You know. Uh, sex stuff. N-not that I think you  _ ** _need_ ** _ it or anything, but, uh, how’s that kind of thing going between you two?” _

Sora leans in, pressing me down onto the counter with her weight, to whisper into my ear. “Tell her it’s good,” she says, and I feel her fingers dip inside me at last, warm and firm and tingly. “You’re already squeezing down a lot.”

“I.. It’s… hah. It’s… a work in progress,” I say. Every time Sora moves her fingers, a pleasant shock of pleasure moves from my groin up into my brain and blows all the words right out of it. I’m breathing hard. I can’t last. I definitely can’t last. Oh, god, Sham’s going to hear me orgasm over the phone. She’s going to be giving me sex tips and I’m going to cream myself all over Sora’s fingers while she does. There’s no way around it. Oh god –

“ _ Aw. Well, it takes a little bit of practice, right? And trying new things to see what works! Like… you said you’d tried it with guys before? I mean – and this is super secret, so don’t tell anybody, and  _ ** _especially_ ** _ don’t tell Sora – I used to… well, you know, I used to imagine–” _

I can feel it coming, and Sora feels it too, I can tell by the way she moves her fingers more roughly, stirring me up inside – oh god. Not now. Not now–

“… _ how she’d look with, you know, a nice strap-on – big, but not too big, and I thought maybe that’s something you’d be into as well–” _

I cum. I cum, my legs shaking, my hips quivering, fireworks exploding in front of my eyes, the whole of my mind taken up by it, and every time I think it’s over I feel Sora’s fingers move just a little bit inside me and a whole new wave of aftershocks ripples through me, again and again. I don’t know what noises I’m making. I don’t even care. I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard, or for so long, and everything is swept away by it, everything is melting together, the excitement of trying to keep it secret, the feeling of the air on my bare skin, the way Sora looked in Sham’s fantasy – it’s melting down into pure pleasure, and I’m pretty sure I just got at  _ least _ one new kink from this, but I can’t bring myself to care. When it’s finally over – after what feels like a happy, exhausting eternity – Sora slides her fingers free, and I know from experience that she is about to put them in her mouth.

“… _ I know, right?! I mean, like,  _ ** _unf_ ** _ ! I’m a little sad I’ll never get to see it for real, but that just means you better not squander the opportunity. But, uh, I should probably go. I’m getting a little too into it, ahaha… I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Let’s make sure everybody has a great time!” _

The phone beeps as she hangs up, and I have enough modesty left to be at least a  _ little _ mortified. She heard me. She heard me cum, and she thought I was just agreeing with her. My cheeks are burning, but the afterglow is hitting and washing any shame out of my system.

“I’m  _ so _ mad at you,” I say to Sora, breathlessly.

She smiles, for all the world like a cat, licking her fingers clean. “No, you’re not.”

“Well, no. I’m not. But I  _ will _ be, in about half an hour,” I growl. “This is a one-off, Sora. We’re not doing this again. I was sure she’d notice.”

“In about half an hour, we’re going again. You lost, so you have to do what I say,” she says matter-of-factly, cutting through my pretend-grump as if I hadn’t even bothered. “I love you, so I want to do it a lot. I’ve got a lot of ideas.”

I feel her thrust her hips gently against mine, as if she were wearing a –  _ unf _ . God damn it, Sham. I sigh, and resign myself to the prospect of a very embarrassing shopping trip in the near future. Sora kisses the back of my neck, happy that she’s made her point, and then stands up properly again.

“For today,” she says, “I think I want you to use your fingers, and I want you to be on top. And,” she continues, “I want you to go topless tomorrow.”

I frown. “What? Why? I’m pretty sure Sham doesn’t want to see my boobs.”

“She said you should do what you normally do, and you normally go topless. Besides, Sham likes boobs, and she likes you. So it’s fine.”

“You just want to stare at them all day.”

“Mm. I like to stare at you. I love you.. Come on. Let’s go and take a shower. You’re all sticky down there.”

“So are you,” I say, and brush my fingers up against her. She makes a throaty moan that I’ve never heard from her before, and I can feel her wetness on my fingers.

We don’t make it to the shower. Truth be told, we barely make it to the bedroom. And by the time Sham arrives in the morning, there is still half a bookshelf sitting in the living room, completely forgotten.


End file.
